


The Dirt

by ravenswritingdesk



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Gen, References to Drugs, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 09:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20776355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenswritingdesk/pseuds/ravenswritingdesk
Summary: Lestat finds a doped-out Alex with Larry and is not a happy camper.Inspired a little by the Motley Crüe biopic on Netflix.





	The Dirt

1985.

The band formerly known as "Satan's Night Out" had become a music sensation nearly overnight with Lestat's help. They'd only released the music videos Lestat had orchestrated at this point, but now they were due to tour the country. Their debut concert was to take place at the Cow Palace in San Francisco. Everywhere they went, news reporters and paparazzi struggled to catch a glimpse, or even a photo, of the one that claimed to be "The Vampire Lestat". 

Most people assumed this was simply a gimmick or a cash grab, but the band knew Lestat spoke the truth. He'd proven himself to them that first night when he tracked them all down. Lestat had taken to the rockstar life with ease and a little guidance from Cookie, Alex, and Larry, but he'd been naïve to some of the _other_ aspects of modern stardom. 

They had already been given their first cash sum for the profits from Lestat's music, and things were looking good. However, this was the 80s, after all. Cash meant being able to let go of your inhibitions, no strings attached. 

After getting off a phone call with his lawyer Christine, Lestat opened the door to the hotel suite they were sharing. What he found inside set off something inside him. Alex was sprawled out over the couch, looking dazed. A coiled hundred-dollar bill laid on the table next to a powdery white substance. He didn't know what it was, but he could smell something off in Alex's bloodstream. 

"What is this?" he asked, gesturing to the table, his eyes locking on Larry. In just a fraction of a second, the tension in the room had become thick. 

Larry spoke up, stuttering a little. "It's... it's just some stuff, man. We got it from a guy at that party last night. We're just having a little fun..." 

Lestat's eyes narrowed at Larry, and he approached Alex, grasping his face in his hands, examining his mortal bandmate. The percussionist's eyes were dilated, his pupils wide and dark against his dark blue irises. The same white residue from the table was smudged just under Alex's nostril. 

"Larry. Tell me, right now. What the _fuck_ is wrong with Alex?" he demanded, his head whipping to focus in on the bassist. The way he spoke was nearly snarling. "His eyes aren't right." 

"He's high, Lestat. Nothing else. It's not a b-" Larry tried to explain. In just a second, Lestat had him pinned against the wall, and Larry coughed from the impact. 

"_I_ will decide what's a big deal and what is not, Larry. What. Did. He. Fucking. Take?" 

"It's just a little cocaine, seriously..." 

Moving away from Larry, his arm still kept the other male pinned against the wall and he pointed to Alex. "Does he look functional to you, Larry? We have a rehearsal in an hour. Will he be ready to join us when that comes? How long does this last?" 

"It... usually lasts a while," was the bassist's sheepish response. "A couple hours, give or take." 

"Magnifique!" Lestat laughed in spite of the situation. His laugh had no humor, however. "Wonderful. Just _wonderful_! We are all supposed to have a rehearsal in an hour and our fucking percussionist is under the influence of some drug unknown to me. Let me guess–before I waltzed my way in here, you were going to partake in it yourself, Larry? Tell me. Who does that leave in the band?" 

"You and Cookie..." he heard the bassist reply, avoiding eye contact with the Brat Prince. Lestat was sure if he could, he'd be steaming at the ears. 

"Yes. That leaves Cookie and I. I need _all_ of you to be _functional_ and ready to go. I will postpone it for today, but in two days' time, if I catch _any_ of you strung out in this way... I will _personally_ see to it that Hell's gates are opened on the lot of you." 

A quick nod from Larry, and Lestat's arm released him from his prison against the wall. Larry coughed again, rubbing at his chest. 

"You'd better get rid of that shit," warned the vampire, sauntering off to his room to lay down by himself. "If I see it again, there's going to be a lot more trouble for you."


End file.
